A Pinch of Sugar
by Bottle Cap Conlon
Summary: Lucy leads a life of confinement, working for her uncle as a saloon girl at the vulnerable age of fifteen. She holds so much hope that her father will return, that nothing can damage it. Though she has already lived so much, she could never have imagine
1. Default Chapter

Music rang throughout the Rusty Nail Saloon as a teenage girl walked out on stage. All was quiet for a moment as the music started up, and moments later, the girl's voice rang out smoothly. No one present could tear their curious eyes away from her beauty as she continued her melody.

"Star light, star bright. First star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, please have this wish I wish tonight. If I wish upon a star, can I have what I wish for? Star light, star bright. Please make my dreams come true, for I believe that anything is possible…it's possible. If my heart believes it, too." The young girl was the image of a show girl in her red and white laced corsette, accenting her figure delicately.

As she floated around the stage gracefully and occasionally came down to the floor, men made crude comments toward her concerning her figure. She was no stranger to the attention, yet every time one of them touched her, she felt sick to her stomach.

When the song was ended at last, the room of mostly drunken men burst into applause. Smiling, she took her bow, pretending she enjoyed all the attention she was receiving before exiting the stage. She could hear her uncle as she walked back to her dressing room which doubled as a bedroom. She sat down upon the old, wooden chair and stared into her own gorgeous, yet saddened, eyes.

She brushed her long, brown curls slowly, her mind obviously elsewhere. She was far too young to be a showfulr at a saloon, being only fifteen, and yet here she was. Her uncle owned the joint, or at least the lower level. The top was owned by a very sweet woman named Medda, who had grown to be very fond of the young child. She helped her out fairly often, doubling as her uncle's extra showgirl when her own joint was closed at night.

Uncle Harry had been Lucy's gaurdian for quite sometime now, and therefore, the only way she could eat was by obeying his orders. At fifteen, Harry exploiting the under age girl was most definitely illegal, yet because of her mature figure and attitude, no one ever suspected she was a day under eighteen. She had dreamed of running away, but her fear was that her father would be unable to locate her once he returned from Sante Fe.

Yes, her father had left this young, beautiful girl all alone in Manhattan, New York. She had once lived outside of town where Michael, her older brother, taught her how to fight and use a gun. Those were the good days, when things were simple and people were good-hearted.

One day while Lucy and her family were in town, a couple of bank robbers rode in and held up the small bank. It had been a small town to begin with, nothing like the great city of New York. Being the only hope, Michael tried to put an end to the robbery, which resulted in a bullet to his chest. She ran to him, desperately crying out for mercy as she watched her best friend's life fade from his face. Life would never be the same, and neither would she.

She had quit school to help her mother by washing clothes to make a dime or two, for she had grown too depressed to work any longer. Their father, a man of great pride and wisdom, had grown distant and hardly ever spoke a word in their small shack. Every day it grew worse, Lucy trying to hold her family all on her own, until one day Mother simply gave up. The little girl returned from the general store to find her strung up in the barn.

This, in turn, grieved papa greatly and he decided it was time to leave the cursed home and try to start a new life in Sante Fe, the place of new beginnings. He had left her a note, explaining this and promising his little girl, his last loved one, that he would come back someday, hopefully soon, and reclaim her. He also left a silver chain holding a small charm in the shape of a horse shoe, to remind her of him in Sante Fe and bring her good luck. Needless to say, the good luck part was a farse.

Perhaps the hardest part of all of this had been that neither parents had cared how she felt, how hurt and lost she had been. No one offered comfort after Michael was killed and papa had definitely not considered her when Mama killed herself, packing his bags and riding into the sunset. It wasn't fair for her to have to carry all of the grief on her shoulders, but it was life. Lucy never complained a bit, she loved her papa. She missed him greatly.

There was one other person to whom she could go and that was her sweet, old grandfather. She could still see his gentle face in her scarred mind, she could still hear him calling her "Sugar Plum" instead of Lucy, claiming he had never like that name in the first place. That memory always brought a smile to her lips, but it faded knowing that Uncle Harry would never allow for her to see him again. She had been forbidden to so much as leave the saloon, and grandfather had since moved to a different home whose location she was unaware of.

"Lucy!" There was a pound on the door that ripped her thoughts away. Without waiting for a reply, the door flew open and a rather husky man stormed in.

"Uncle Harry, what's a mattah?" The girl turned to look at him quizzically, knowing it couldn't be good news.

"What's takin' ya so long? I've got payin' customahs out theah waitin' foah ya soivices! Now get!" He demanded impatiently, pointing to the door.

"Oh, Uncle Harry! Please don't make me!" Lucy begged her unmerciful uncle with tears threatening to spill, but not daring.

"_Now!_" He stormed back out, slamming the door in his rage. She turned to face the hourglass figure in the mirror once more, cursing it. It was so unfair, and she hated her uncle every second for it. He beat her and touched her just as every other man in the saloon did, only it hurt worse when it was him. Why didn't papa come sooner? Why didn't her grandfather come and find her? No matter what Lucy thought, she knew what she had to do and set out to do it.


	2. Chapter Two

"Hey, Kid! Any good headlines taday?" A tall, scruffy brown haired boy took a seat beside his friend, the pirate.

"Naw, Cowboy." The blonde boy replied, looking through one of the many newspapers he had beside him. "Jus' da same borin' ol' stuff as always."

"Guess we'll hafta improve 'em den, eh?" Cowboy smiled a little, running his hand through his hair. His name was actually Jack Kelly, but the newsies called him Cowboy on account of his attire.

Newsies. They were on every corner in New York, selling papers a penny a piece, trying to make a living. They were all either orphans or runaways, but their common bond was that they were rats with pasts that no one wanted to touch. That was okay with them, though, because they formed their own family. They lived at a Newsboys' Lodging House where the owner, Kloppman, took care of them.

Jack, Cowboy, was the leader of the rugged pack, and all the others looked up to him. There were many Newsies and they all had special "newsie" names such as Kid Blink, Mush, Racetrack, Boots, Crutchy, Snipeshooter, Skittery, Snitch, Dutchy, Itey, and Specs. This small handful of boys were forced to grow up far to fast, carrying burdens that weighed them down.

After selling the papers for the day, the boys would head to the lodging house. They never all came at once, but by twos and threes, and most of the time they would come alone. Jack, Blink, and Race ran into each other just outside the door that day, and came through the door together.

"Heya, Kloppman." Jack greeted the elderly man whom they were all so fond of. He was almost bald with white hair and he wore small, round spectacles. He was a funny, sweet man who would protect those boys from anything, even if it meant he would be in trouble for it.

"How was the sellin' taday, boys?" He asked, looking up from the ledger.

"Not so good." Race took off his hat and scratched his forehead. "I gotta find me a new spot."

"You can have mine." Blink laughed, "It ain't sa good, eithah."

"What about you, Cowboy?" Race turned in anticipation.

"Me? Oh, I'se doin' okay I guess. Maybe theah ain't no good spots." Jack shrugged, "I mean, theah's about thoity of us Manhattan newsies who got different spots and ain't none of 'em any good."

"Da Spot in Brooklyn ain't sa great eithah." Race mumbled sarcastically, receiving a smack on the back of his head from Blink.

"Hey Jack, do ya think dey sell papes in Sante Fe?" Blink asked curiously. Jack had always talked about going to Sante Fe, where he could be a real cowboy.

"I dunno, Blink. But I'll tell ya when I get theah." He smiled in response.

"I used to know a young man that lives in Sante Fe now." Kloppman stated absently, leafing through some papers.

"Ya did? Who?" Jack's interest was immediately sparked, his eyes shining at the old man.

"Yeah, I knew him for a while. He was always such a good kid. But he changed. I guess it was just too hard for him after all that happened." It seemed as though he were talking to himself.

"Really? What happened?" Blink pried innocently.

"Yeah. Then he took off for Sante Fe without so much as a goodbye." He continued without answering the question. "We weren't too close after the accident, he pushed me away. He pushed everyone away. All he wanted was a new start, and he didn't care who he hurt to get it. People always said Sante Fe was the place for new beginnings."

"Yeah, it even says it heah." Jack pulled out a brochure from his pocket, on he carried everywhere. They all looked and, sure enough, that's what was printed delicately along the bottom. "Kloppman, what happened? What was the accident?"

"Well," Kloppman stretched, trying to change the subject. "You boys better get to bed now." With that, he disappeared into the back room which served as his personal quarters. After a thoughtful silence, the boys burst into laughter. It wasn't even dark outside yet. That night some of the newsies went out to have some fun at Medda's, Jack's friend.


	3. Chapter Three

Lucy sat in her room, dressed in another costume as tears coursed down her cheeks. She didn't want to go back out there ever again, having thrown up only moments ago. There came a small knock at the door before it slowly creaked open.

"Are you alright, Lucy?" An older woman with curly red hair piled neatly on her head asked as she made her way over to the sniffling girl.

"I hate 'im, Medda." She looked at her, her eyes filled with sadness. "I just want ta…ta…run away." She steamed. Medda sighed and sat down beside her, pulling her into a hug.

"It's alright. Sh, everything will be just fine. I'll tell Harry that you're sick." Lucy wiped her tears and looked into the blue eyes of the owner of the second story of the building.

"You would do dat fa me?" She asked, knowing how her uncle got when someone made an excuse.

"Sure I would, kid. Don't you worry about it." She smiled, "Now, get some rest." She added, standing and heading for the door.

"Medda?" She turned to face Lucy once more. "Thanks." Lucy forced a small smile. Medda returned it and nodded before leaving and clicking the door shut behind her.

Medda was like a mother to Lucy. They were very close and Medda always stood up for Lucy, even though Uncle Harry never paid heed when she told him to take the girl to her grandfather.

Lucy leaned on the window sill, on the third floor of the same building that served as living quarters. Looking out over the dimly lit street, she began to hum softly. Even down in the saloon, on stage, when she sang everything was fine again. She was free until the curtains closed and her Uncle's voice invaded her mind, trying to sell her to the highest bidder.

Her eye caught on a group of boys walking down the street, though they were too far away to make out. She sighed as she ran her fingers over the charm that hung around her bare neck and a tune rose from her chest, exiting her mouth smoothly as she began to sing. She was so engrossed in a melody about her father's return that she didn't even notice that the group of young men had stopped in their tracks.

Looking around, she could barely make out their confused expressions once her eyes found them. She continued singing, not thinking much of them until one looked up and saw her. In an instant, every eye was on her and she closed the curtains, her face flushed as she turned out the light. It wasn't long before she had fallen into a trance-like sleep.


	4. Chapter Four

The boys left the lodging house and made their was down the street toward the saloon, where they would sneak up to a dark empty balcony to watch Medda sing. They took their time, of course, fooling around in order to arrive later than all the paying guests.

"Hey Cowboy, whatever happened at Sarah?" Mush asked innocently, a casual smile gracing his lips as he elbowed Blink.

"Sarah?" Jack repeated thoughtfully, then continued. "Oh, you mean Davey's sistah. She wasn't my type. I like a goil wid brains, or at least a half a one." He shrugged, sending Race and Blink into riotous laughter that soon had Mush chuckling as well. "What?" Jack asked, sounding a little harsh.

"Nothin'. We jus' can't believe ya evah liked 'er, is all." Race admitted, holding his stomach because he was laughing so hard.

"Hey, hey, hey! Listen." Jack demanded, stopping so abruptly that Mush ran into him, causing Blink to start laughing all over again. "Fellahs…you heah dat?"

"Yeah, sounds like singin'." Race had also stopped, his ears now perked as he listened. "Like an angel or something'."

"Wheah's it comin' from?" Blink asked as if Jack held all the answers in his back pocket. Jack responded with a shrug, all of their eyes now searching for the source of the heavenly voice. Then, when Jack began to wonder if he were insane, Blink glanced up.

"Hey! Theah in dat windah." He whispered so that the others would turn their eyes upon what he was seeing. Sure enough, there she was, the beautiful angel in the window with her long hair blowing in the gentle night breeze. Just then, she appeared to look right at them and quickly put a stop to the melody and shut the curtains. The lights went out as the dazed boys continued to stand still, the song still ringing in there ears.

"Did ya see 'er?" Blink asked at last, making sure he hadn't conjured her up out of his imagination.

"Yeah." Responded Race with a nod, his eyes still fixed upon the darkened window.

"She was da most gorgeous goil I'se evah seen!" Jack exclaimed and ignited more laughter before heading inside for the show.


End file.
